


When I Know What I Need

by threeturn



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Bottom Liam, Dom/sub Undertones, Face-Fucking, M/M, Multi, Rimming, Size Difference, Threesome - M/M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-04
Updated: 2014-01-04
Packaged: 2018-01-07 11:00:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1119067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/threeturn/pseuds/threeturn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Liam can't stop thinking about Ben Winston, and Harry knows just how to make his dreams come true.</p>
            </blockquote>





	When I Know What I Need

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lazy_daze](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazy_daze/gifts).



> Sam, your enthusiasm, your smarts, your generosity, and your incredible stories make this fandom a better place. I was so excited to have the chance to write for you and I hope you enjoy this! ♥
> 
> Everlasting thanks to my guiding star [disarm_d](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarm_d) for support and solutions every step of the way and to the lovely [sophieisgod](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophieisgod) for consultations and britpick. ♥ Thanks also to [andwhatyousaid](https://archiveofourown.org/users/andwhatyousaid) and [unapologetic_thirst](https://archiveofourown.org/users/unapologetic_thirst) for their help and encouragement. ♥
> 
> In this story, Ben and Liam are both single, and the 'Midnight Memories' video concept is imaginary, just like everything else.

**London, September 2013**

When they were laying down the tracks for 'Story of My Life,' Liam assumed it was a song about breaking up with a girl. But at the video concept meeting, Ben explains that it's actually going to be a song about family and the passage of time, and Harry nods along as if Ben's explained it all to him already. Maybe up in his attic room, just before bedtime. Liam doesn't quite get it, but apparently everyone else does. Then Ben passes round the photographs he's chosen from the ones they'd given him weeks ago. Niall and Zayn and Louis look at them carefully, pleased, calling their younger selves rude names. Harry sits on the edge of Ben's desk, fiddling with the paperclips. Liam listens to Ben's warm, posh voice, and thinks how brilliant Ben Winston is.

Shooting the video at the underground theatre is a bit nerve-wracking with his parents there half the day, but when the family scenes are shot and all the mums and dads and siblings and grandparents have gone off for their tea, Liam relaxes. He watches Ben, how he coaches Harry to show more emotion, more energy, his hand on Harry's arm. Harry looks up at him, nodding, and Ben steers him gently into place when Harry walks in the wrong direction on the chorus. Liam looks down at his feet. He's been hitting his mark every time, so Ben hasn't spent much time on him.

The intro verses are the last scenes they shoot. "All right, Liam?" says Ben, when Liam's in position at the table. Ben's got his arms crossed on his chest and his sleeves are rolled up. Probably there isn't a legitimate reason to be staring at Ben's forearms, regardless of how hairy or well-muscled they might happen to be.

"She told me in the morning, she don't feel that way about me in her bones," sings Liam, and puts the photograph up on exactly the right beat.

Maybe he gets confused, or maybe it seems unfair that the more quickly he nails it, the more quickly Ben will move on to someone else, but when Liam goes on to "Seems to me that when I die," he doesn't turn to the camera.

"Missed the turn," Ben calls.

"Sorry!" Liam says. "When was it again?"

"Like this," says Ben, and mimes it. "Sad remembering, _seems to me that when I die_ , turn, _these words will be written on my stones_. Got it?"

"Yeah," says Liam, and starts marking his way through. He doesn't even mean to get it wrong this time, but he turns too far.

Ben's hand is on his face. "Seems to me that _when I die_ ," he chants, and turns Liam's head firmly, thumb on his cheek.

"Oh," says Liam. "Oh."

"Do it for me now," says Ben, and Liam feels a bit shaky, but he opens his mouth and sings. Slots the picture. Turns.

"Perfect," says Ben. "Let's do it again."

 

*

 

When Ben calls it a day, it's a relief to go to wardrobe to take his waistcoat off.

"Is this actually a 1D video?" muses Louis. "Zayn and Harry haven't done anything inappropriate."

"Maybe they can manage some grinding in the outtakes," says Liam briskly. He crosses behind Harry to get a hanger. Harry punches out casually in the direction of his dick and only half-misses.

"It would work with the theme," agrees Niall. "Once we were such tiny children. Now we're all grown up and snogging Zayn!"

"It's gonna be so great though," says Harry. "Ben's amazing."

"You know what's amazing?" says Zayn. "Niall's cricket jumper."

"My jumper is very sexy," says Niall, trouserless. He swivels his hips in Zayn's direction.

"Take it off so I can look at you with a straight face," says Zayn.

"Ben," howls Niall, "Zayn's being mean to me."

"He just wants you to take your clothes off," objects Harry. "There's nothing mean about that."

"Zayn, behave yourself," calls Ben amiably from the next room.

This reminds Liam that Zayn is Ben's second favourite. Liam makes a grab for Harry's arse, and doesn't miss.

"Liam's secretly the worst, Ben!" Harry yells to Ben.

"Liam, don't make me come in there!"

Liam's breath catches.

"He's just kidding," Harry says. Helpfully, he hands Liam his jeans.

Liam lets his breath out all at once. "You staying at his tonight?"

Harry shrugs. "Or Grimmy's."

Liam finds Harry's living situation confusing. He has this whole other life, separate from Liam, separate from all of them, where Liam feels like a stranger.

"You and Ben—" Liam starts. He looks around, but Niall and Louis and Zayn are already gone. "Just, like, curious. What do you two talk about?"

"I don't know," says Harry. "The band. Photography. Jewish stuff. Mostly I just say whatever comes into my head."

"What does _he_ talk about?"

"Different things. Me, sometimes," says Harry.

Liam bites his lip. "Why—"

"He just takes care of me, you know?"

"Oh," says Liam. He thinks Harry and Ben are probably sleeping together, but Harry's never said it straight out.

"Yeah," says Harry, watching Liam button up his shirt. "I like it."

 

*

 

That night Liam dreams that he's singing the first verse for a song he's never heard before. It isn't going well, because he was never actually given the words or the music. He's all alone. None of the other lads are there to help him.

"That sounds dreadful," someone says. It's Ben, but Liam can't see him anywhere.

Liam opens his mouth and tries again. By mistake he sings Harry's verse, or maybe Zayn's. "Don't make me come in there," says Ben, and then Ben is in the room, filming him.

"Forward on three," says Ben. He gives Liam the count and Liam steps forward and starts singing, but this time what comes out is 'Cry Me a River'. He breaks off, embarrassed, when he sees Ben shaking his head.

"That's not right, Liam," says Ben, and Liam wants to die. Ben probably wants to kick him out of the band. He probably wants to organise his own separate band without Liam where he spends all day having his beard trimmed by Zayn while Harry whispers sexy Jewish things into his ear.

"Maybe if you had your cock out," says Ben thoughtfully. After that, Liam hits every note.

 

**London, December 2013**

"Is that when we pant?" asks Liam. They've gone round to Ben's for dinner so he can talk them through the 'Midnight Memories' video concept, and Ben hasn't mentioned the most important bit. Louis always claims it was Liam who'd thought up the panting—"because you're a pervert, Payno, just own it"—but if you ask Liam, Louis thought up the panting, because he's a genius. Anyway, they're both very proud.

"You won't be actually be seen panting," says Ben. "It'll be voiceover."

"But Ben!" Harry waves his fork in the air. "We escape from the crowded kitchen, we run around, we find each other on Tower Bridge, big relief, we would be panting! It totally fits the story."

"I don't think I'd be panting," says Zayn thoughtfully. "Am I really going to be running around? Maybe I could sort of _stroll_."

"Wouldn't dream of having you exert yourself, Zayn," says Ben. "You're the first one Niall picks up after he hijacks the mini-cab."

Zayn and Niall attempt a high-five across the table, which means there's a brief pause to allow for the mopping up of spilled gravy.

"Anyway, panting," says Harry, when the new spot on the tablecloth's been covered with a serving dish. Liam admires his single-mindedness. It's something that they share.

"You could compromise," says Louis. "Obviously the second panting should be when I'm leaping down to the police boat, but the first one could be from the intercut concert footage."

"Yes!" Harry slings an arm around Liam's neck. "Me and Liam panting into the same mic!" He holds up a fist between them and pants into it, demonstrating. Liam pants too, cooperatively, until Harry dissolves the mic by smushing his fist against Liam's mouth.

Ben watches the two of them, eyebrows raised. "Who's directing this, anyway?" he asks. "Is this what happens after we do a family-orientated video? The next one has to be Boys Gone Wild?"

"I like that," says Niall. "That sounds great!"

Ben takes rather a large drink from his wine glass.

"Of course you know best, Ben," says Liam. "We'll do whatever you like."

Ben puts down his glass and smiles at Liam, eyes dark. "I know you will."

Liam smiles back weakly. Harry is pressing his leg against his, under the table.

 

*

 

The night before the Midnight Memories shoot, Liam sleeps with his face in the pillow and dreams he's weighted down. Another body, bigger, stronger, on top of him. A cock pressed to his arse. A voice in his ear, saying, "I know you will."

Liam tries to move and finds that he can't. The man's hands are on his shoulders, pinning him against the mattress. It feels like he's sinking into something sweet and thick.

"Go ahead," says Ben. "You can pant now."

Liam moans instead, waiting for Ben's cock. What he actually gets is Justin Timberlake.

"Every little thing I do! Never seems enough for you!" JT complains from the bedside table.

Liam thinks hazily that he wouldn't have taken Ben for an 'NSync fan and then, swimming closer to consciousness, remembers that Louis'd been messing about with his ringtones again. "It's gonna be me!" Justin announces, and Liam bats out blearily for his phone. He's still hard as fuck. "Yeah?"

"Liam." Harry sounds half-awake too, but then Harry always sounds half awake. "You want a ride?"

"What?" Liam rolls onto his back, tries to reassemble the fragments of his dream.

"Are you even awake?"

"Uhhhhh." Reluctantly, Liam looks at the time. He should've been up half an hour ago.

"So do you want me and Ben to give you a ride?"

"A ride," Liam repeats. He scratches his belly, careful not to touch his dick. It really doesn't need any more encouragement.

"To the shoot. You _were_ asleep."

"Maybe."

"Were you having a nice dream?"

"No," says Liam.

"Was it a sex dream? I can hear in your voice it was a sex dream."

"Is Ben there?" Liam asks.

There's a pause. "Sort of."

"I hope he's got his hands over his ears."

"Why?" Harry says. "Who wouldn't want to hear about your sex dreams? We're not all lucky enough to dream about Pharrell."

Liam should never have told any of them about that. "Pharrell wasn't in this one," he mumbles.

"So it _was_ a sex dream," says Harry, delighted. "I wasn't sure."

"Harry, jesus."

"We'll pick you up in thirty. Does that give you enough time to wank?"

"Bye, Haz." Liam tosses the phone across the bed and contemplates his erection. He doesn't really need to have Harry talking about sex in his ear when he's unclothed and defenceless. Not when Ben Winston is going to be telling him what to do all day long. Half an hour, as it turns out, is twenty-seven minutes more than enough.

 

*

 

Today they're just getting footage in the house for the party scenes. There's a lot of fussing about what the extras are wearing—at present it looks as if everyone's just got home from the Rocky Horror Picture Show—and Liam and the other lads are all wearing more eyeliner than usual. For once they're meant to look like rock stars.

"Um, about that phone call," Liam says to Ben, while they're waiting for the costume changes to be sorted.

"Which was that, then?" says Ben, peering down at his shooting script.

Liam has trouble putting this busy, professional Ben together with the one he sometimes sees cuddling with Harry. He obviously shouldn't have brought it up, only every time Ben looks at him he might be thinking terrible things about him, and Liam can't have that. "With Harry this morning—Harry was at me about a dream, but you oughtn't listen to—Harry's only—"

"Bloke named Pharrell, was it?" says Ben. He makes a note on the script.

"Oh god," says Liam. "No—I mean—"

Ben sighs and takes Liam by the shoulder. Liam looks up at him, frozen. "It doesn't matter in the slightest, baby," says Ben. His eyes are serious and kind. Then: "Look, Liam, stand over there a moment, would you? I need to adjust my light settings."

Liam goes. Ben tilts the camera toward him. Liam's used to being in a viewfinder, but somehow this time he feels naked.

Ben frowns and makes an adjustment. "Yeah," he says at last. He nods, satisfied, and looks up at Liam. "Gorgeous."

Liam feels ridiculously pleased.

 

*

 

"For one of the choruses," says Louis a couple of hours later, "just one, we could sing 'I love K-F-C' instead of 'midnight mem-or-ies.' I mean, of course you wouldn't hear it on the audio track, but the really dedicated fans would figure it out by lip-reading."

"Not a chance," says Ben briskly. "Niall, hold the chandelier with your other arm, please."

"All right," says Niall. He tugs uncomfortably at his leather trousers.

"You'd sing it, wouldn't you, Niall?" asks Louis.

"Louis," says Ben. "This is the set for a sophisticated grown-up party. We need viewers to suspend their disbelief that you lot and your KFC would be allowed in somewhere civilized."

"Your house is civilized," Harry points out.

"Which is why you sleep in the attic," says Ben. "All right, Liam, five foot something with the skinny jeans?"

Liam tries it, but apparently the angles aren't right somehow. They do another take, and then another. Ben goes into the set to figure it out.

"If you're _here_ ," muses Ben to himself. He's standing right behind Liam. "Five foot something with the skinny jeans," Ben mutters. "Niall on the chandelier, Louis dancing with the vampire lady…" He takes Liam by the arm and moves him closer to Louis. At this point Liam happens to remember that Ben probably fucks Harry on a regular basis. He closes his eyes for a moment and tries not to lean back. When he opens his eyes, Harry's looking at him curiously from atop the jewelled alligator. Then, slowly, Harry starts to grin.

"So maybe if you look at Louis when you sing it," Ben says in Liam's ear, and Liam jumps and nods emphatically, because he's totally doing his job and having work thoughts. Ben goes back behind the camera.

"Five foot something with the skinny jeans!" Liam sings.

"Don't grin at Louis right after," calls Ben. "Don't make it a joke!"

"Five foot something with the skinny jeans!" Liam sings, trying to give Louis the eye. "Don't look back, baby, follow me!"

Louis smirks back at Liam. " _Now_ it's a One Direction video."

"I'm five foot something too," Harry points out.

"Only just," says Ben, "So I think we'll give this one to Louis. All right, lads? Again, and this time we're panning straight to Zayn catching Niall when he jumps from the chandelier, so Zayn, be ready."

Harry brings Liam his tea when they break, along with a handful of sugar packets and a protein bar. "What do you think?"

"I love it," says Liam sincerely. He can't wait to shoot the boat chase, but it already feels great.

"You smashed your verse," says Harry. He's got a little container of melon balls, and he's spearing them one by one into his mouth and rolling them around.

"Some people eat with their mouths closed," Liam suggests, as a point of interest.

"Oh, you're working on that whole being civilized thing," says Harry. "Excellent move, Ben'll like that."

Liam rips six sugar packets open at once and shakes them into his tea and doesn't say anything.

"Because I get this feeling you like to make Ben happy," Harry suggests.

"We all do," says Liam. He's been having inappropriate thoughts about Ben ever since they shot the BSE video—specifically, that moment when he'd been too busy messing about with Louis to notice he was wanted on set, and Ben had had to order him back to his place. Ben hadn't been angry, only efficient. But he'd pushed Liam down to his spot on the sofa with one big authoritative hand and Liam had thought of that moment at least once a week since.

"Come on, Liam," says Harry. "I thought you were going to faint backwards into his arms."

"What?" Liam stirs his tea too energetically. "Ow!" He puts the cup down and sucks on his burnt knuckle.

Harry hands him a serviette for the drops on his trousers, looking pleased in that Harry way where you don't know if he's met someone special or just thought up the perfect name for a line of organic potpourri. Then Niall crashes into him, full of news. "Did you know our boat's gonna sprout wings?"

"Sick," says Liam. It's a good thing he's wearing all black; the drops of tea don't show at all.

"Have a melon ball," says Harry, and pops one into Niall's mouth.

 

*

 

After the shoot, they go back to Niall's flat to unwind; they won't shoot the rest of the video for another couple of days, so it's perfectly all right to stay up too late. It's not long before most of them hit the floor: they'd put a lot into the shoot, and Niall's den is so cosy. Furniture just seems unnecessarily challenging at this point.

"This video is my favourite one," says Niall dreamily. "I know I always say that, but this one is actually the best for sure."

"It's the subtle protest theme," says Louis. "'Everywhere we go, never say no.'"

"'Just do it, do it, do it, do it,'" Harry agrees. He's sprawled out shirtless next to Liam.

"I think you and Louis interpret that line differently," says Zayn. He's the only one still slumped in a chair.

"Anyway, the whole thing would be better with panting," says Harry. "You know, if they were really thinking of the fans, the behind the scenes people would get some footage of all this." He waves a hand around vaguely and hits Liam in the face by accident.

"Right," says Louis. "Why not just play spin the bottle and film it?"

Zayn says, "Harry, you wanna take pictures of Liam, feel free. You don't need to dress it up as a gesture for the fans."

Harry grins down at Liam. Liam poses for him on one elbow.

"Well, I vote Louis's idea," Niall says, leaning back against Zayn's legs.

Zayn passes his joint down to Niall. "Spin the bottle?"

"Yeah," says Niall. "We all know this isn't going to last forever. We should definitely tape ourselves snogging so we have something to fall back on when we're broke." He hands an empty bottle to Liam. The obvious thing to do is to set it on the floor between him and Harry and spin.

"Well then," says Harry, when it stops, and crawls on top of Liam. Liam drops flat on his back, and Harry goes with him, on all fours, laughing. Liam puts his hands up but Harry grabs his wrists and presses them to the ground. Suddenly, Liam feels either five times more drunk or not drunk at all. It's hard to tell. Harry ducks his head and his hair goes in Liam's eyes.

"Hold on," objects Niall, from somewhere to his left. "We're not even recording yet."

"Niall," says Louis. "I was kidding."

"Oh," says Niall. "I mean, it seemed like a good idea to me."

Harry drops down full on top of Liam, which definitely feels like a strong choice, but also a really bad one. Liam pulls gently against Harry's grip on his wrists, testing, but Harry just releases him right away. "It _was_ a good idea," Harry says brightly, sitting back up.

Liam decides that if he doesn't show recognition to his dick by checking whether he's hard enough for anyone to notice, it won't actually be hard at all. He opens his eyes. Mind over matter. Zayn is looking thoughtfully at him and Harry. Louis is rolling another joint.

Niall drops himself into Zayn's lap. "Me and Zayn are gonna shotgun," he announces cheerfully.

"Did I say that?" asks Zayn.

"I decided," says Niall. "Louis, you in?"

"Absolutely not," says Louis, putting the joint in Zayn's mouth. Zayn kisses the tips of his fingers. "Everyone needs to stop throwing themselves at me," says Louis. "It only means heartbreak in the long run." He tosses a pretzel at one of Liam's discarded trainers and it goes right in.

"Don't get food in my kicks, Tommo," Liam says half-heartedly. He pushes Harry off him and Harry staggers over to the sofa, looking a little pouty.

"I didn't ask for perfect aim," says Louis. "Here, try it." He shoves the pretzels over to Liam. Liam takes one and eyes his trainers, hefts the pretzel in his hand.

" _Not_ civilized," Harry whispers, and Liam overshoots, sends the pretzel into one of Niall's snapbacks instead.

"Do not," says Niall. "I love you, Liam, but do _not_."

"You lose!" shouts Louis. "Forfeit, forfeit, Liam loses!"

"Make him clean my snapback," says Niall.

"Don't you even want to draw on his back?" Louis looks disappointed.

"The shoot though," says Zayn. "Sharpie won't fade enough in two days."

"There's no forfeit," says Liam, without any particular hope of persuading anyone. "We didn't set up the rules ahead of time." He looks to Harry for support. Harry's laid out on the sofa, chewing his pretzels thoughtfully. He's kind of a messy eater.

"We're doing this the Tommo way, Liam," says Louis, because he apparently still thinks that's a killer argument. Then he looks where Liam's looking. "But just lick up the crumbs from Harry's chest and we'll call it even."

"Louis," says Harry. He brushes ineffectually at his chest, apparently trying to spare Liam the trouble.

"I don't mind," says Liam. It's better than having to get changed on the shoot with Louis's doodles all over him, and he knows from experience the forfeits will only get worse from here. Harry shrugs, as much as he can while more or less prone.

"Go on," says Louis. "Give it a go."

Liam crawls over to the sofa, kneeling on the floor next to Harry. Harry grins at him and closes his eyes. Which is good, because Liam suspects his cheeks are pinking up. Bits of pretzel are scattered across Harry's swallows. Liam dips his head and licks. Harry's skin is gravelly with salt.

"Get the bit on his nipple," Louis orders.

"Which one?" snaps Liam. But he can see which one. He takes a deep breath, and then Harry's hand is in his hair. Liam licks at the soft puff of Harry's nipple. When he feels it harden under his tongue, he tenses before remembering that Harry is never embarrassed about anything his body does. Before he can do something stupid like start sucking it—instinct, really, nothing weird—he leans his forehead on Harry's chest instead. Possibly there's some kind of sex poison being emitted from Harry's pores, and that's really not fair play. Then Harry's tugging lightly at his hair, until Liam's head is up by his.

"Well done," Harry breathes into his ear. "I think you got it."

Liam can only stare at him, dazed, and then the pretzel hits him in the back of the neck.

"Not bad, Payno," says Louis. "Half a mo' while I tweet this—"

Liam makes a dive for him, wrestles him to the floor, holds him down.

"Unfair!" yelps Louis. "Unfair by way of being a tank!"

Liam wonders for a moment, looking down at Louis, what it would be like for winning to be difficult. Or if there was someone he couldn't hold down at all.

 

*

 

"I brought you some coffee," says Liam to Ben when he arrives at the shoot, "you like it black, don't you?" Then he sees that Ben's already got coffee. "Never mind, sorry," he says hurriedly, "I'll just—"

But Ben's shaking his head, taking the cup from his hands. Their fingers brush, and honestly that wasn't Liam's intention: he only wanted to do a tiny bit of something for Ben, show him in some small way that he's appreciated. Skin contact, and the warmth it sends to Liam's stomach, is just a bonus. "Cheers," says Ben. "Mine was getting cold." He sips from the cup, keeping his eyes on Liam. The crew is setting up their equipment, but the other boys aren't there yet.

Liam sips his own coffee. The day is already darkening, and they have a long night on the river ahead of them. Liam knows Ben probably has a million things to do: the crew is already swarming and they'll all be wanting his attention. He wants a chance to tell Ben something important though, before they get started.

"I love these videos, you know?" Liam says. He feels idiotic when he sees Ben's surprised face, but ploughs on ahead anyway. "I love that each one's a story, but also like a game, and we get to be the heroes—"

"Course you like _that_ ," says Ben, teasing.

"No," says Liam quickly, "I mean yes, but the point is, you're a hero too, like, like, a secret hero? And we all know it, so. Thanks."

"Aw, Liam," says Ben, and he puts an arm around Liam's shoulders. "It's just what you give me to work with. The lot of you, being inspiring. Your story and I'm just helping you tell it." He's so tall, and his arm around Liam feels so strong and safe. Liam leans against him, just for a moment, and Ben's hand goes to the back of his neck. His fingertips are hot from the coffee cup. Liam makes a small sound, and then Ben draws in his breath and pulls away.

Liam could smack himself for how ridiculous he is. It's not that this particular crush happens to be on a guy—Liam's messed about with blokes before, although mostly before becoming a popstar, and the other boys know it. It's that Ben is this decent, kind, clever man who's devoted a good portion of his last three years to making One Direction look like lovely, fun, ordinary lads, and Liam knows it's not true, at least not when it comes to him. The Liam in the videos and documentaries wouldn't have the dreams he has. That Liam wouldn't want to sink to his knees right here for Ben, taking another drink of coffee before opening up, just to make sure his mouth is as hot inside as Ben's fingers on his neck. That Liam wouldn't be thinking about taking cock from a man who only wants Harry, if he wants any of them at all, and that Liam certainly wouldn't be thinking about Harry the way he has been, either, because apparently he's become some sort of obsessed sex maniac over the break. He needs to go back on tour, probably. Focus on the job. It's what he's best at.

"I took a nap this afternoon," he tells Ben. "Made sure I'd be ready to go."

"Good thinking," says Ben. "'Fraid we'll be tiring you out."

Oh god. "I see Harry," says Liam, because there he is, shambling along the riverbank and wiggling his eyebrows at Liam for no apparent reason.

Ben pats him on the back. "So go and get your boy."

 

*

 

It's cold out on the river at night, and when they break the boys huddle in their cabin down below, drinking hot chocolate. Crew members drift through occasionally, looking stressed. The euphoria of the beginning of the night—up on the bridge, kings of the world—has faded, and Harry complains about the cold until Niall sits on him. Meanwhile, Liam's got Louis and Zayn leaning up on either side of him. They've got even less space here than usual.

"Let's talk about something warm," says Niall.

"Older men," says Harry immediately.

Louis groans. "Not of general interest."

"How much older?" says Zayn, poking at the marshmallow in his hot chocolate. "Are we talking about Frank Ocean or are we talking about Piers Morgan?"

"Closer to Frank Ocean," says Harry, "but whatever, no judgment."

Louis folds his arms. "Je ne parle pas le 'no judgment.'"

"That's fine," says Harry, "you go right ahead and talk about your crush on Piers."

"That's what Louis said?" Liam asks.

"More or less," says Harry.

"Assuming I can transpose this topic to women," says Louis, "I don't see why older would appeal."

"Well, for all kinds of reasons, Lou," Harry starts.

Louis shakes his head dismissively, and usually Liam assumes that Louis is right about everything, but this time he feels weirdly offended. "Someone older would be experienced," he argues. "He could, like—"

"Go on, Liam," says Harry, into the sudden hush.

"He could give you exactly what you needed," finishes Liam in a rush. "They, I mean. She. Whoever." He snaps his mouth shut and pushes his lips together to make sure he stops talking.

"Well," says Zayn, grinning.

"Be quiet, Zayn," says Liam pre-emptively. His cheeks are burning.

Harry reaches across Zayn and pats Liam's hand. "Let me see, do we know any older men?"

"Back on in five!" says the PA, sticking her head in.

Harry gets to his feet. "Off to the loo. Liam, don't you think your hair wants fixing?"

"Lou can get it," says Liam.

"Well, if you change your mind," says Harry, and wanders off.

Louis and Zayn exchange looks. "I think Harry needs you, Liam," Niall chirps.

"I'm busy," says Liam.

"Harry is having a problem," says Louis, "and Liam won't even go help him."

"Probably a problem in his _pants_ ," agrees Zayn. "That's the worst kind."

Liam's phone vibrates. _We have four minutes to discuss this where are you????_

Liam sighs. "I think I'll just, go, um—"

"Bye!" says Louis cheerily.

The toilet on the boat is so tiny Liam can hardly close the door after himself. Harry looks up from his phone, not making any special effort to move over. "Ben's thrilled with the shoot, you know."

"Glad your boyfriend's happy," says Liam.

Harry gives him a look that is both patient and kind. "He's not my _boy_ friend."

"What is he then?" asks Liam, before he can stop himself.

"Hmm," says Harry. "Tall, dark, and handsome, I suppose."

"Fine, don't tell me," says Liam. "What exactly's wrong with my hair again?"

"C'mere." Harry's fingers brush up into Liam's hairline. "Maybe Ben's just someone I like being close to. You'd know about that, wouldn't you, Liam? You like his hands on you too."

"Dunno what you mean," says Liam, without any real conviction. He tugs at Harry's earring. It looks so stupid and also so hot. Liam want to lick right where a real piercing would be.

"All fixed," says Harry, and then shakes his head in a mini-version of the old hair flip. "How do _I_ look?"

Liam can't tell because his face is too close. "Like a terrible mistake," he mutters, giving his best guess, but Harry kisses him anyway. Gently, his mouth just brushing over Liam's, his hand at the back of Liam's head. "But Ben," Liam starts to say, only he's talking against Harry's mouth, so his words seem less like talking and more like snogging, and then both their mouths are open and Liam's hands go stupidly, inevitably, to Harry's shoulders.

"Hold on," says Liam, but Harry's mouth is on his neck and the words don't sound right. "Haz, I don't want you to cheat—"

"I'm not," says Harry. "Promise I'm not." He's touching Liam's face, fingers on his cheek and then his thumb running over Liam's lips. Liam opens for him helplessly, mouths at the tip of Harry's thumb, feels the hard edge of Harry's ring pressing against his cheek.

There's a loud banging on the door. "Time, dickheads!" calls Louis.

Liam jerks away from Harry. "Oh god, oh god. This is awful. Do we look like we've been snogging?"

"Liam, you _always_ look like you've been snogging," says Harry. "That's the entire point of your mouth."

Liam tries to peer into the tiny mirror above the sink. "We need to focus," he mumbles, mostly to himself.

"Yes," Harry agrees. "But we could go to yours after the shoot. Liam, please?" He's fiddling with his earring and Liam suddenly sees it, Harry's nervousness, in the minute flutter of a silver cross.

"Okay," Liam says, so that his heart and Harry's earring can both be still.

 

*

 

In the cab to Liam's, hours later, Liam darts little glances at Harry and also at their feet, because it's the only place they're touching. Zayn texts: _Where did u 2 run off 2?_ Liam stares down at his phone, aghast, until Harry grabs it and types _Have both got measles suddenly. Escorting each other to hospital._

"Very discreet," says Liam when Harry shows him the text.

"Honesty is the best policy," says Harry, and starts discussing the underground in London versus the underground in New York. By the time he's worked his way round to the progress of his home renovations and whether birds or dolphins are the more intelligent species, Liam no longer actually believes they kissed. What's happening is that that they're going home after a night out and Harry is kipping in his guest room. It's fine. When they pull up outside Liam's flat, Liam pays the driver, they go up the front steps, and as soon as Liam lets them in and locks the door, Harry pulls off his jacket, presses him up against a wall and attacks his mouth.

Liam kisses back in a wave of relief, runs his hands over Harry's broad back. Harry rolls his hips against him, dragging slowly and deliberately, and Liam sags a bit further down the wall. Harry watches and does it again. "You look," says Harry slowly, "like you did the first day of the shoot. When Ben was holding you and I thought you were going to faint."

Liam freezes. "That's an exaggeration."

"Is it?"

Liam opens his mouth to protest and then thinks better of it. He shrugs his coat off, then ducks and grabs Harry around the middle, hefts him over his shoulder with a grunt. Harry squirms joyously and tries to bite him. Liam stalks down the hall, turns off into the front room, and dumps Harry on his sofa. "Who's fainting?" says Liam, but seeing Harry like that, flushed and laughing with his shirt rucked up around his middle, does make him feel a little light-headed.

"Hey," says Harry, reaching up for Liam's hand. "I want you to carry me around all day. Rescue me from things. Dogs. Paps."

"Shampoo?" asks Liam.

Harry yanks at Liam's hand, and Liam goes down next to him, which Harry seems to interpret as an invitation to clamber onto his lap. Liam settles him on his knees, a prim distance from his dick. They look at each other. "Mr Fireman," says Harry, "how in the world can I ever repay you?"

Liam strokes up the sides of Harry's arms, goes under his t-shirt sleeves to hold his biceps. He feels frustrated and he doesn't know why. "The thing I don't see," he says at last, "is why you get to be the one being saved."

"Because I am a _damsel in distress_ ," Harry points out patiently.

"You bench-pressed 70 kilos yesterday!"

"So? You wanna take me and ravish me or not?"

"Yeah, sure," says Liam sulkily, and leans forward, right into Harry's mouth. Harry sighs happily and kisses him back, nice and smooth. When Liam pulls him closer, Harry comes easy, grinding down on Liam's dick, his mouth sliding wet against Liam's, his arse fitting just right into Liam's hands. They kiss until Harry works a hand in between them, feeling out the line of Liam's cock, and Liam humps up against his hand and goes for Harry's flies. Harry pushes him away like getting his cock out is going to be this complicated challenge that he alone can manage. He raises himself high on his knees and opens up his jeans. Liam watches, a hand pressed to his own dick. He's seen Harry hard exactly twice—memorably and accidentally—but he's never felt like he should actually be looking. Now Liam lets out a sound that sounds horrifyingly like a whine and Harry grins down at him, pleased with himself. "Big enough for you?"

"Wanker," says Liam. "Get back here."

"Shirt first," says Harry, pulling at the fabric, waiting for Liam to raise his arms over his head so Harry can yank his top off. Harry runs his hands over Liam's shoulders. "You need to bulk up, mate," he says, and then gets his own shirt over his head. Liam snorts and holds Harry's hips so he doesn't fall off the sofa, but before he can manoeuvre Harry's cock into his mouth—the obvious next step—Harry's dropped full into his lap again, giving Liam loose-lipped kisses with one hand busy at Liam's jeans. His fingers are careful the way his mouth isn't. Liam's pretty sure Harry's never seen him hard before—he's a bit more careful about these things than some—and it's satisfying to hear Harry's pleased little " _oh_ " when Liam wiggles his jeans down further and pulls his dick out. Harry reaches for him immediately. Liam reaches for him right back. They stroke each other in thoughtful, symmetrical silence for a moment.

"Did you—" Liam starts, and then clears his throat. "How long have you—I mean, when did you start—"

Harry nods like he's making any kind of sense. "For a while," he says. "But then there was that day that I woke you up from your sex dream."

"Oh god," says Liam, and leans forward to kiss him again. He tries to concentrate on the way Harry's sliding his thumb over his cockhead, on the feel of Harry's prick in his hand.

"So fucking hot," says Harry, "you sounded _wrecked_."

Liam spits into his palm and goes back to jerking Harry off. "Because you woke me the fuck up!"

"Okay," says Harry, rocking up into Liam's hand, eyes half-closed. "But how do I make you sound like that again? I mean, before tomorrow morning?"

"Harry…"

"Like this?" Harry twists away from Liam's hand, slides off his lap to the floor between his legs. Kneeling, he bows his head over Liam's cock and puts out his tongue.

Liam pushes Harry's hair away from his face. "If you want."

"Want _you_ ," says Harry, and licks straight up from the base before taking Liam's cock into his mouth. Liam's hands tighten on Harry's shoulders. Harry sucks and then stops. "How do you like it?"

"I like it with your mouth on my dick," says Liam sincerely. He wishes Harry would stop asking him things.

Harry licks at him again, using his lips and tongue until Liam's cock is shiny with his spit and then takes him in again, so fast and deep Liam bucks up into his mouth without thinking. Harry splutters and shoves Liam's hips back down hard. Liam gasps, feels a surge of heat. Harry's hands are strong, and he's not loosening his hold.

"Sorry, Harry—" says Liam shakily.

Slowly, Harry pulls off. He lifts his eyes to Liam's. "Now you sound like you did this morning."

Tentatively, Liam tries pushing up against Harry's hands, but Harry holds him fast. His lips are an inch from the tip of Liam's cock. Liam strains harder, trying to get back to the wet heat of Harry's mouth.

Harry looks at Liam's cock, presses just his lips to the head. "You want me to let go of you?"

"Uh," says Liam. He squirms, but thanks to Harry's hands and the jeans around his thighs, he can barely move.

"Do you want me to let go," says Harry, enunciating more clearly.

"Not—" says Liam. "Not as such." He covers Harry's hands with his.

"You want me to go down again?"

Liam sighs with exasperation. "Of course I fucking do."

"Okay," says Harry. "Then tell me your dream."

"Damn it, Haz," says Liam, glaring. "Damsels in distress don't ask for that shit."

Harry ducks down, licks at his shaft again, still doesn't suck. "Don't be small-minded, Liam. Was it anyone I know?"

"If it was," says Liam, "it doesn't mean anything." He certainly doesn't want Harry to think he's moving in on his territory. "People have thoughts sometimes about people they would never actually—I mean especially if someone else is already—" But Harry's sucking him down again, and words are hard.

"Just to clarify," says Harry, when he comes up for air, "we're talking about an older man, right?"

"You _knob_ ," says Liam. "Like you don't know, like you can even shut up about it—"

"Tell me anyway," says Harry, and lets Liam's cock bump wetly against the side of his face.

Liam watches, fascinated. "Ben, fine, it was Ben, god, Harry—"

" _Good_ ," says Harry, and lets go of his dick, climbs back up so he can kiss Liam, long and sweet. Liam tilts forward, sways, and Harry goes over backwards, bringing Liam with him to the floor. Harry's on his back, jeans still low on his arse, face flushed, red lips shiny. Wet from sucking my cock, Liam thinks, and shoves down against him, their pricks sliding together and Harry groaning in the back of his throat. Harry's fingers tighten on Liam's back. "So what happened?" whispers Harry. "In the dream, what happened?"

Liam remembers it in flashes. "Nothing." He pushes his face into Harry's neck so Harry can't look at him.

"Liam, that's not fair!"

Liam ignores him, because no matter how much he whines Harry is not actually a child who's had his lolly taken away. He pulls his jeans and pants off. Pulls off Harry's too. Harry tugs at him petulantly, and Liam crawls back over him, a knee on either side of Harry's hips. He's about to flatten himself against Harry again, wants to rut against him until he's coming and not thinking, but Harry holds him off with a hand to his chest.

"Did he suck you?"

Liam shakes his head. "Come up a bit further," says Harry, and licks quickly at his fingers. So he wants to jerk Liam off, that's fine, Liam can deal with that, he just—and then Harry reaches under Liam's cock, trails over his balls, and pauses at the pucker of Liam's hole. Liam trembles and tries to stay calm. Harry might not want to, and Liam doesn't want to ask.

Harry, on the other hand, doesn't seem to consider any questions off limits, and he's started prying gently at the rim. "I wanna know, Liam," says Harry, watching Liam's face. He's ignoring Liam's dick entirely. "I can tell you more about Ben, too, if you'd like. He's got a big one too, you know."

"Harry…" Liam's down on his elbows, moving helplessly against Harry's hand. He should pay some attention to Harry's rigid, leaking cock below him, but Harry doesn't seem fussed so Liam takes his own dick in hand instead. That's when Harry takes his fingers away and grabs Liam's wrist. Liam pulls against his grip but Harry doesn't let go.

"I bet he'd give it to you, Liam, is that what you want?"

"Want you to put your fingers in me," Liam blurts out, mostly by accident. He lets his cock drop, a little mournfully, and Harry nods, releases his wrist.

"Would you rather I was Ben?"

Liam shakes his head violently. What he wants right now is Harry's fingers, Harry's dick, the rude raspy purr of Harry's voice. Harry reaches under again, pushes a spit-slick finger inside. Liam gasps with the burn, trembles, breathing hard. Harry can't get his finger very deep in this position, but he can curl it, and Liam makes an embarrassing noise when he does. "But you want Ben too?" asks Harry.

"Yeah," Liam groans, "Harry, fuck you, get me off—"

He can't believe Harry's grinning up at him, sadistic arsehole that he is. "So tell me what you want," says Harry. He pulls his fingers out and lifts his head to kiss Liam as sweetly as if he's not the worst person in the world.

Liam whimpers into his mouth. "Aren't you gonna do it?"

Harry raises his eyebrows and spits on his fingers before reaching back down between them. When Liam feels Harry's fingers against his hole again, he sighs in relief. "Liam?" Harry prompts, and Liam can't remember why he's still holding anything back.

"For him to tell me what to do—" That makes Harry push his fingers in hard, two of them this time. The noise Liam makes is deep, guttural, and when he gets a hand back on his dick Harry doesn't stop him.

"Dreamed he was holding me down," Liam says, and now he's got started it feels like he can't stop, fisting his cock fast while Harry pumps his fingers in. "He was holding me down and he was gonna fuck me, Harry, I want it, I want it—" and he comes, gasping, over Harry's stomach and chest.

Harry looks up at him, dazed. He pulls his fingers from Liam, slowly and carefully. Touches the jizz splattered on his chest. Smears a streak of come over one of his nipples as slowly as if it's some ancient meditation technique. Liam should probably suck his dick now. He certainly can't meet his eyes.

"You know what?" says Harry, before Liam's got up the strength to move. "You're gonna wank me off. Then we're going to bed. Then tomorrow I'm going to call my friend Ben."

"Bossy," Liam mutters.

"Well, yes," says Harry. "If that's how you need it."

 

**London, January 2014**

"You know," says Ben, a couple of weeks later, "I have important matters to attend to. Searing documentaries. Walking the cockapoo. I can't be hosting tea parties for you lads whenever Harry here gets a notion in his head."

"I know," whispers Liam. He stares down at the drops of red wine at the bottom of his glass, at the thick carpet on Ben's hardwood floor. He's certain this was a bad idea. He's certain Harry was wrong to spend all that time pestering Ben and ringing Liam when he was trying to enjoy a nice Christmas holiday with his family just to let him know that before leaving for Cheshire he'd changed Ben's screensaver to a slideshow of Liam's half-naked balcony shots from Sydney. He's certain he shouldn't have skyped with Harry later and allowed the conversation to breathlessly degenerate into Harry tilting his laptop so Liam could watch him wank. He's certain Harry was wrong when he said he was breaking Ben down. He's certain they're both wrong to be here at all, side by side on Ben's brown leather sofa, because Liam really doesn't want to "talk things over." Maybe he can offer to walk Colin instead.

"You love it," Harry tells Ben, unfazed. "You can't get enough of us."

"You appear to be confusing me with your fan base," says Ben. He holds out his hand and Liam stares at it, confused, before he realises Ben's gesturing for his empty wine glass. He hands it over and Ben refills it before sinking back into his armchair. "Does he do this often, Liam? Expect you to scream and throw your panties at him?"

Liam clears his throat. "Usually it's—"

"—the other way around," Ben nods wisely. It takes a moment for Liam to realise that Ben's making a joke, and then by the time he catches up enough to chuckle, Ben's started talking again. He sounds terribly serious, so the quirk of a smile in the corner of his mouth is probably an accident. "Every word out of Harry's mouth for the last two weeks has been entirely unprofessional."

"I know," whispers Liam. "I'm sorry."

Harry squeezes his knee reassuringly. "I'm not."

"What he proposes is obviously unethical as well," Ben goes on.

"Unethical?" Liam's confused. The screensaver thing was definitely a mistake.

"Because I'd be taking advantage of your youth and innocence. Plying you with alcohol, ordering you about—"

" _Yes_ ," says Liam. It's the first thing he's really understood since they arrived on Ben's doorstep.

"Possibly a criminal offence," Ben continues, "could be construed as a quid pro quo arrangement: unless you render yourself up to me, I cut your screentime, et cetera, et cetera."

"Really?" says Liam. "You mean if we…you know…I'll get _more_ screentime?"

Ben and Harry exchange glances. Harry says, "Li, he's talking about how it could be _perceived_. He doesn't mean it's actually gonna affect the video."

"Oh," says Liam. He runs his hand over the arrows on his forearm. "I wouldn't want to take away from the other lads anyway."

Ben sighs. "Liam, Harry, I feel that perhaps I'm not making myself perfectly clear. I'm a director and a producer. I am not running a secret boyband underground sex ring."

"I know that!" says Liam.

"Why not?" asks Harry.

"Anyway," says Ben, ignoring this, "so while I'm flattered, and I'm not unaware of your appeal—"

"He thinks you're hot," Harry explains to Liam, in a stage whisper.

"—it would be unbelievably poor judgment not to decline."

Liam is still trying to untangle this one when Harry kisses him. "Ssh," says Harry, when he makes a confused noise, "he didn't actually say no, so we're moving to stage two."

Stage two apparently involves kissing Liam thoroughly, with lots of tongue, and then turning back to Ben to say, "But look how lovely he is, Ben!"

Ben does seem to be watching rather intently. "That's just cruel, Harry," he says, "it's like when you wander about the kitchen half-dressed; not fair play at all."

"It would only be cruel if I were just teasing," says Harry, and he unbuttons Liam's shirt over his collarbone. Liam grabs his hand and holds it—not to stop him, but in case it makes the world stop whirling about.

"That's all it is when you know I won't take advantage," says Ben, and Liam isn't following this conversation at all.

" _Take_ advantage," says Harry. "I want you to!"

"Wait," says Liam. "You two aren't—"

"Only twice," says Harry, sounding aggrieved.

"Three times, really," says Ben thoughtfully. "If you count the time in the back garden."

"You liked that," says Harry happily. "I knew you liked that."

"Liking it isn't the problem," Ben begins, and he looks so frustrated that Liam wants to help.

"Ben," he says, "it's just what we're giving you to work with."

"Pardon?"

"You said—the night of the shoot. Along with we inspire you, you know, all that rubbish."

"It wasn't _rubbish_ ," says Ben, but he's definitely listening. "Go on."

"So it's just another story," says Liam, and he's certainly had too much wine, because he's unbuttoning another button of his shirt. "Our story, you'd just be in it this time."

"Liam's saying nicely that he wants you to fuck him," explains Harry. "You know, the way we talked about." It makes Liam shaky all over again, to think of Harry telling Ben the things Liam wants, but he nods his agreement anyway.

"I recall," says Ben, so Harry takes the opportunity to snog Liam again until he collapses back against the sofa cushions.

"Nice," says Harry to Liam a moment later, and then, to Ben, "you see?"

"I've—seen Liam before," says Ben, a little hoarsely. "Yes."

"I'd do whatever you liked," says Liam faintly, because he's already having the most unbearably embarrassing day of his life; one more confession that he's sure to regret can hardly make a difference. He sits up again, a little dizzily.

"You mean you want _me_ to do whatever _you_ like," says Ben. 

Liam bites his lip. "Don't you—Harry said—don't you want me?" He tries to keep the quiver out of his voice.

"Do I—" Ben seems to be having trouble making words. "Liam, baby—" He leans forward, touches Liam's cheek, and Liam closes his eyes, leans into his hand. _Baby._

"I'll be upstairs," he hears Harry say softly, and Liam's eyes fly open. The idea of being alone with Ben sends a jolt of panic through him.

"Right," says Ben, and he seems to be taking a deep breath. "But Harry?"

"Yeah?"

"You needn't be gone for very long."

Harry nods and kisses Liam on the cheek and then he's gone. Liam is fine. He's only terrified, that's all.

"Liam," says Ben mildly. He gets up from his chair and sits down right next to Liam on the sofa. "Calm down. Look at me."

Liam nods automatically and meaninglessly. Maybe they should have brought Harry's inhaler. He feels like he might need it. 

"Just you and me right now," says Ben. "Harry can get things backwards, I know. So I need you to tell me yourself whether this is what you want."

Liam can barely breathe, so he certainly can't trust himself to speak. 

"Liam?"

"Yes," says Liam at last. "Yes, it is."

Ben scratches his head. He still looks uncertain. "What Harry talked about would mean a bit of a game, you know? We could play through to the end, but whenever you say it's over, it's over. You only need to tell me so, as early or late as you like."

"Won't wanna stop," mumbles Liam.

"But if," says Ben. "Even if I seem—well, you've got to remember, I'm always just Ben really. So I'll listen."

"All right," says Liam. He can tell Ben thinks what he's saying is important, but Liam's mostly listening to the sound of his voice—warm, soothing. Ben still seems to be waiting for something. "I'll tell you if I don't like it, but I will, I know I will—"

He's babbling, but Ben's leaning closer. "All right then," Ben mutters, and then it's happening: Ben's kissing him, hard, his beard rough against Liam's cheek, holding Liam's head between his hands, until Liam moans helplessly into his mouth. Then Ben pulls himself away, leaving Liam gasping for breath, and says again, "All right."

Liam sits there, a bit dazed, touching his hand to his mouth, wondering if he'll have red marks from Ben's beard. Because Ben kissed him, and even if Ben's mainly doing this to be kind, surely it means Ben likes him a little. When he looks up, Ben's just watching him, his face still a bit troubled, and Liam wants to assure him that he'll be no trouble, that Ben needn't worry at all. But Ben's the one who starts talking first. "What I've always liked about you, Liam, is that I can depend on you. You learn your part, you come prepared, you corral the others when necessary."

Liam's heart sinks. Of course that's what Ben likes about him. That's what everyone likes about him.

"You take care of them," Ben goes on. "But my question is, who takes care of you?" He's rolling up his sleeves. Liam's mouth goes dry.

"H-Harry?"

"Harry is lovely, isn't he?" says Ben kindly, and Liam agrees so much he gives a little bounce up and down on the sofa before he can stop himself. "He thinks you're quite special, you know. Very eager for me to give you exactly what you need."

"Oh," says Liam, feeling both overwhelmed and stupid. "Thank you very much. I mean, thank _him_ very much. I mean—"

"Yes, I've always appreciated your manners," says Ben. "Please and thank you and a very pretty mouth."

Liam's hand flies back to his lips. Ben takes his hand and puts it back in his lap. Then he kisses Liam again, firmly and quickly, not giving him his tongue this time. His face is still very close to Liam's when he says, "Anyway, Harry says you'd like to get fucked."

Liam draws in his breath. It's odd, hearing it out loud like that, like Ben's only asking Liam to move three steps left on set.

"If I misunderstood," says Ben carefully, "it's no harm done. We're professionals, aren't we?"

Liam nods enthusiastically. "Yes."

"Yes, we're professionals so we can get past a temporary misunderstanding, or yes, you'd like my cock in your arse?" Ben's posh voice is just as friendly as always.

"The um," says Liam. "The second one."

"Which one was that?" asks Ben, smiling. "I've forgotten." 

Liam can feel his cheeks burning. "You to—do that. To me." 

Ben sighs. "We're going to work on your self-expression skills. Stand up, please, Liam."

Liam gets to his feet. Ben doesn't. He just jerks his head in the way that Liam knows from shooting the videos means, _over there_. It's comfortable in a way Liam didn't anticipate. All he has to do is whatever Ben tells him to do, and he's used to that, isn't he? Liam stands in front of Ben, excitement prickling through him, waiting for what comes next.

"All right," says Ben, business-like. "Let's have your shirt off first." Ben leans back against the sofa cushions to watch, spreading his thighs wider. Liam wants to drop to his knees between them, show Ben he won't be sorry he's said yes, but Ben's only told him to get his shirt off, so he pulls at his buttons instead. Ben's eyes on him make him clumsy. He ought to have worn a t-shirt, he thinks, but he'd wanted to look—nice. Respectful.

"Unwaxed today," Ben observes. 

Liam's promptly horrified: Harry likes his chest hair, but why should Ben? Liam feels messy, even rude, like he's _sprouting_ everywhere or something. "I'm sorry," he says quickly. "I can—" he tries to think what he can do. Shave, quickly? Have sex with his shirt on? 

"It's fine, Liam," says Ben, sounding a little bored. 

Liam closes his eyes in relief, grateful. He pulls the shirt all the way off, stands there in his jeans and trainers. 

"Turn," says Ben, and Liam does an awkward 360. He knows his shoulders look good, his muscled back, his strong arms, but how can he be sure he's got the sort of body Ben likes? 

"All right, Liam," says Ben, smiling kindly at him. He hasn't moved from the sofa. "Now your jeans." Liam takes a deep breath. His jeans have already slid pretty far down on his hips. When he opens his flies, Ben'll see—he'll see Liam's already half-hard. He knows it's too soon. He shouldn't be hard until Ben has his hands on him. He shouldn't be hard from Ben sitting there on the sofa, telling him how to show himself off. "Liam," says Ben, more sternly. Liam knows that voice, but he's used to hearing it on set when Louis's out of his place or Zayn's slow coming back from a smoke. He's not used to hearing it when he's standing half-naked in Ben's sitting room, trousers tight against his hardening cock. It still jolts him into obedience; he gets the button of the waistband open, unzips, can't help a little sigh of relief as his cock bulges forward into the gap. Ben watches with polite interest. 

"Can I," Liam stammers, "can I get my—" he gestures to his feet, still in trainers and socks. 

"Go ahead," Ben says.

Liam bends over, wants to take everything off so beautifully and quickly, but he can't get at one of the laces and he stumbles. The thing is, he ought to have prepared before coming over, he ought to have watched at least twenty-five pornos and paid special attention to the parts where people take their clothes off, so he'd know how to do it well. He sits, finally, kicking his trainers aside and feeling like a child. But when he gets his jeans off and looks up, Ben's not even looking at him, Ben's got his phone out. 

Disappointed, Liam gets back to his feet. Well, he's never been the most exciting one, has he? Probably if he were Zayn, Ben wouldn't have taken his eyes off him. Liam tries to think of what Zayn would do in his situation. Yawn, probably. Pull out a cigarette. Liam can't do that. He puts his hand on his cock, lonely. Makes a little noise in his throat, wanting Ben to hear. 

When Ben looks up, Liam keeps his hand on his dick, feeling defiant. Ben raises his eyebrows. "Just texting Harry in the attic. Thought it might be time for him to come downstairs." 

"Oh," Liam says, not sure if that means it's over. "I—" 

"You don't mind if he joins us."

"No," Liam manages.

"But you've still got your boxers on. You don't want to waste my time, do you?"

Liam shakes his head no, because none of them ever wants to do that, and gets them off.

"On your knees, now, Liam."

Liam goes down easy, gratefully, so fast that his dick bounces a bit, but Ben doesn't laugh.

"Look at you touching yourself," says Ben. "Did I tell you to do that?"

"No," Liam mutters. He's completely hard now. Ben's eyes on him are like some kind of heat bath.

"Well, if you must," says Ben. "Go ahead."

Liam spreads his hands over his own torso first, over his chest and his stomach. It's not that he's trying to put on a show, but he wants—he wants not to be boring. When he gets to his dick, he takes a deep breath and gives himself a couple of pulls with his right hand.

"What a pretty cock," says Ben kindly. 

"Told you," says Harry, from somewhere behind Liam. Liam didn't even hear him coming downstairs. 

"And so eager to please," Ben observes.

Harry walks over to Ben. He's shirtless, barefoot. And he's just Harry, the Harry that Liam's stripped onstage and punched in the junk and—last night—kissed all over, every inch, but his gaze feels different this time somehow, now that he's seeing Liam kneeling naked for Ben with his cock in his hand. "Liam likes to be good," Harry explains.

"I've noticed," says Ben, and pulls Harry into his lap. 

Harry squirms happily against him. "Isn't this against your rules, Ben?"

"We seem to be letting them lapse, just for the day." Ben winks at Liam. Liam grins back. He likes this, here with the two of them. Right at the centre of things. 

"We'll talk about this 'just for the day' business later," Harry says cheerfully, snuggling in.

Ben puts a hand on Harry's thigh, clears his throat. "Liam, why don't you show Harry what you were showing me?" 

"The, um, the—" 

"Wank yourself for us."

Liam takes a deep breath, looks at Harry and gets an encouraging nod. So he slides his hand over his cock again, slowly, keeping his eyes down. Ben said he had a pretty cock, so Liam tries to expose as much of it as possible, using just the circle of his thumb and forefinger to wank. In a stroke of inspiration, he licks his hand, letting a line of spit drip from his mouth, just in case that's something Ben would want to see. Then he puts his wet hand on his cock and strokes. When he looks up, Ben's got his eyes fixed on Liam but his hand between Harry's legs. Liam stares, helpless, watching Ben slide his other hand up Harry's torso while Harry writhes in his arms like a cat.

"You're already leaking," Ben says to Liam, as if he's making an observation about the weather, as if he's not doing anything to Harry at all. Liam, embarrassed, swipes his thumb over his slit, tries to rub away the precome.

"He gets wet easy," Harry explains. 

"Is that right, Liam?" Ben looks at him, considering. "Perhaps we ought to give you something else to do before you’re too excited to be useful." 

"Yes, please," says Liam, because Ben's right, he's already too close, and he doesn't want to make an utter fool of himself. 

Then Ben's pushing Harry out of his lap so that Harry takes a stumbling step toward Liam. "Liam, why don't you get Harry out of his jeans?" 

"Oh," says Harry, hands going to his flies. "I can—" 

"No," says Ben firmly. "Liam can do it. Liam?" 

Liam's not sure why he's blushing. It's not like he hasn't taken off Harry's clothes before. He shuffles over to Harry, staying on his knees. Head bowed, he starts working at the button. Harry's hard, straining against his zipper. Then there's a hand in his hair, and Liam leans gratefully into Harry's touch.

"Okay, Li?" Harry whispers.

"Okay, Haz," Liam whispers back.

"Liam," says Ben, "get a move on."

Liam would like to undo the zipper with his teeth, but he thinks it's probably the sort of thing one oughtn't try without practice. So he just unzips Harry like normal and peels his jeans and pants down in one. Harry's cock springs free, bumping against Liam's cheek, and Liam's mouth waters, but he doesn't want to presume. Carefully, he helps Harry step all the way out of his jeans.

"Do you want to suck Harry?" Ben asks.

"Y-yes," Liam manages.

"Tell him, then."

"Um," says Liam. He feels a little silly. When he did it to Harry before, he just went down without asking. "Harry, can I?"

Harry looks down at Liam, eyes wide and lips parted, and Liam starts to reach for his cock, because he knows this, know what Harry's cock feels like in his hand, in his mouth, but then someone's grabbing his wrist, pulling it up and holding.

"You're going to suck," says Ben, and he's standing next to Liam. "No one said you could touch."

"But—" says Liam, and Harry grabs his other hand, offers it politely to Ben.

Ben holds his wrists tightly together above his head. It's uncomfortable and Liam pulls down a little. Ben yanks him up harder and it makes him gasp, just on the edge of pain. He can't move forward to Harry, can't curl over his dick, so how does Ben expect him to—"Go on, Harry," Ben says, and his voice is still gentle, patient, but absolutely authoritative.

And Harry steps closer, one hand on himself, the other on Liam's jaw, and pushes his prick in, just like that. Liam's used to Harry asking him obnoxious sex questions and making lots of noise when Liam touches him. He's not used to Harry's cock shoving in hard and insistent, pushing to the back of his throat. He gags a little, and tries to pull off a bit, breathe, but Ben's there, holding his head still, holding his wrists, and there's no way to get his bearings. There's only Harry's cock, thick in his mouth, sliding in and in and in, and the sound of Harry's breathing above him.

"Ease up now, Harry," says Ben, and Harry obeys him instantly, hand gentling on his jaw, moving in shallower thrusts over Liam's tongue. Liam's wrists tremble in Ben's firm grip, and he sighs against the ache in his neck and shoulders. He wants so badly to make it good for Harry, he wants so badly to show Ben—

"What a good cocksucker you are," says Ben, and Liam moans with the pleasure of it, leans against Ben's leg as he tries to swallow around Harry's cock.

"Fuck, Liam," says Harry. "Ben, can I—"

"Not yet," says Ben. "Liam, when I let your hands go, you won't try touching Harry, will you?"

Harry pulls back just enough for Liam to say, "N-n-nn," and then presses back in, slow in the way Liam knows means he's trying not to come.

Ben slowly releases his grip, keeping a hand on Liam's shoulder to keep him balanced on his knees as Liam's arms drop to his sides. "Hands behind your back now, baby," says Ben. Obediently, Liam crosses his hands behind him. His eyes are closed, Harry's cock jammed deep in his mouth. His own cock is heavy, aching, ignored. When he feels Ben's fingers brushing against his spine, Liam tries to push back against him. Ben's hardly touched him. What he wants is for Ben to touch him. Liam makes an approving noise when Ben puts his hand on Liam's wrists where they're crossed over the small of his back. When Ben presses down, Liam arches immediately so that his arse tilts higher. "I've never seen anyone," says Ben to Liam, "who needed a good arse-fucking so much as you." Liam whines around Harry's cock, tears prickling at his eyelids. It's fine, he's fine, he's _great_. It's only that Ben understands him _completely_.

"Ah, _Jesus_ ," Harry moans, and jerks his cock out of Liam's mouth.

"Harry, for fuck's sake—" Ben starts, but Harry's already shot his load over Liam's mouth and cheeks and chin.

"Sorry," Harry chokes out, stumbling back, "sorry, he's just so—fuck, Ben, I couldn't wait."

Liam licks tentatively at the jizz on his lips. He wants to tell Harry he doesn't mind at all, but then Ben's standing in front of him, his hand on Liam's jaw. "Harry's such a child, isn't he, Liam?" Ben says sympathetically. Carefully, tenderly, he's using his thumb and index finger to slide Harry's come between Liam's lips. Liam takes it eagerly, licking at Ben's fingers, closing his eyes so Ben can dab at the streak of come that hit high on his cheekbone. He likes Ben tending to him like this but he's worried about Ben getting his hand messy, so when Ben finishes wiping at his face, Liam nuzzles into his palm and whispers, "Can I clean you up?"

"Oh, bright boy," says Ben, so Liam licks the bitterness off each of his fingers in turn, keeping his arms politely crossed behind his back. He doesn't know if he's doing it right or not but then Ben says, "God, Liam," very softly, and Liam thinks that's a good sign, especially since Ben's feeding two of his fingers back in Liam's mouth for him to suck. Liam takes his fingers eagerly, using his tongue, hoping that Ben will get the message, hoping that Ben will feed him his cock. Liam wants to suck Ben and he wants Ben to fuck him and he's glad he's not in charge here because he'd never be able to decide what happens next.

Harry's hand is back in his hair by the time Ben takes his fingers from Liam's mouth. Ben looks at the two of them and says, "Right, Harry, let's get him upstairs." He holds out his hand to Liam. "Oh, you can drop your arms," he adds, as if he'd forgotten, and then Ben and Harry are on either side of him, helping him up.

Liam feels a little shaky, climbing the stairs, but when they get to the bedroom, Harry leaps onto the bed as if they're just trying out a new hotel room. Liam half expects Louis, Niall, Zayn, to burst out of a closet and pile on too.

"Liiiiiiam," Harry calls, and pats the bed next to him.

"Go on then," says Ben to Liam.

Maybe Liam should just drop onto the bed and then wait for Ben to put him where he wants him, but he'd rather get it right immediately. "Should I go on my front or my back?" he whispers to Harry.

"Ben!" Harry says. "Liam wants to know whether you'd like him arse up!"

Ben's pulling his shirt off. And Liam knew Ben was strong, has seen him lugging heavy equipment he could just as easily ask a crew member to handle, but Ben is _built_. He's got a powerful chest and big arms, and Liam kind of wants to ask him how many kilos he can press, but he doesn't want to spoil the mood. Liam knows he's fairly well-muscled himself, but half the time he still feels like a teenager, and now, looking at Ben shirtless, he's reminded all over again that Ben is a _man_. He wants to rub his face into all that black chest hair. He wants Ben's body on top of his.

"If Liam wants to know something," says Ben, "he can ask me himself."

"Um," says Liam in a very small voice. "Did you want me on my front or my back?"

Ben grins at him. "Why don't you start out on your stomach?" he says, and his voice is casual, but it's not really a question.

Liam crawls on to the bed obediently and lies down next to Harry. "Here," says Harry, and Liam looks at the pillow in his hand, confused, until Harry pushes it at him and Liam realizes he's meant to put it under his hips for when Ben fucks him. Liam still doesn't entirely believe it's going to happen, but he tucks the pillow under him obediently, shutting his eyes against the embarrassment of having his arse up in the air like this. Of being on display. He cradles his head in his arms. His cock is still hard between his stomach and the pillow.

Harry rubs his back and it feels good, but Liam can hear the sound of a zipper and wishes he could see Ben taking off his trousers. Then the bed dips a bit, and there's a weight settling over him. It's Ben, straddling his legs, heavy enough so that Liam doesn't get far when he tries wriggling. "Be patient," Ben tells him, which if you ask Liam is pretty unrealistic when Ben's naked on top of him and he can't even see him, can't see the size or shape or curve of his cock, doesn't know if Ben's stroking himself or looking at Liam or wanting Liam, and Liam does want so badly to be wanted.

Every cell in Liam's body seems to be crying out _touch me, touch me, touch me,_ until Ben's big, warm hands are on him at last. Ben starts with his shoulders and then rubs over his arms, his back, thumbs dragging down his spine. The lower he gets, the more Liam trembles, and then Ben's hands are on his arse, stroking lightly in circles and then kneading more firmly, and Liam is trying so hard to stay still instead of grinding against the pillow that he's breathing in shallow little gasps. "So sweet," Ben's saying, "so _good_ ," and Liam wants to sob with gratitude, but Ben's sweeping over the backs of Liam's thighs now, and Liam's apparently weirdly sensitive there, because it feels like his skin is on fire. He's rocking down into the pillow now and it feels like he could come just from this, just from the pressure on his cock and the feeling of Ben on top of him and the touch of Ben's hands.

"Hold on," Ben tells him, and stills him with a firm hand on his hip. "Steady for me, you're going to get exactly what you need." Then his hands are on Liam's arse again, but he's pulling his cheeks apart, dipping his fingers down to rub at the sensitive skin between Liam's balls and his hole, and Liam's body trembles.

"Li," whispers Harry, stroking the side of his face. "Li, Li, relax."

"Trying," Liam chokes out, and he is, he's trying so fucking hard, but Ben's thumbs are prodding at the rim of his hole now and he needs something there, he needs something so bad. "Please, Ben," he mumbles. He doesn't want to be greedy, he doesn't want to be impatient, but he can't stop himself squirming against Ben's hands.

"Didn't quite hear," says Ben, shifting his position, and Liam can see Harry out of the corner of his eye, rummaging for something in the drawer of the bedside table. "Tell me again?" Liam feels something else, then, the bare heat of Ben's hard-on dragging along his thigh.

Liam turns his head to the side, sees Harry handing a condom and lube to Ben. " _Please,_ " Liam says again. "I'm ready."

Harry says, "But you're not even—let Ben open you up first."

"I think Liam knows what he wants," says Ben, and then there's the sound of plastic being ripped, and the flick of a bottle cap. He hears a squelching sound that's got to be Ben slicking himself up, and then Ben's fingers pulling at his hole again, wet and insistent. "Remind me," says Ben. "Ready for what?"

"You," Liam mumbles, "your cock, Ben, please, in me, I want it—" and then there's a blunt slick pressure at his arse and he can't help whining eagerly, bearing down to ease Ben's entrance. He reaches back with one hand to pull Ben closer, but Ben grabs his hand and puts it back down on the bed, braces himself over him.

"Manners," says Ben hoarsely, and starts pushing in. His cock feels impossibly thick like this, and for a moment it feels wrong, like Liam should have asked for fingers first after all, or maybe like he shouldn't be here at all. He gropes out with his hand, and finds Harry's knee where he's curled up at the head of the bed. Harry puts his hand on his and Liam feels better instantly.

"You're—fucking—tight—" Ben grits out, and Liam's so proud, because he doesn't hear Ben talk like that, ever; the way Ben speaks is smooth, effortless, he never has to work to make sense, except apparently he does now, and it makes Liam want nothing more than to open himself for him completely.

"You want more?" whispers Harry, and Liam hisses his assent. Then Ben's cockhead is past his rim and it doesn't feel wrong anymore, just an ache with the promise of pleasure beyond the pain, and suddenly Ben's sliding all the way in. Liam cries out, absolutely full.

"Baby," says Ben quietly, and this time he doesn't say it like a question but Liam knows it is.

"More," Liam chokes out. "I like it, more."

That makes Ben chuckle a little, and he draws back and shoves in, not very fast, not very hard, like he's just trying to get the feel of Liam's arse, and after a moment Liam realises he's working on finding his prostate and pushes back encouragingly against him, a ragged rhythm that means _you can_.

"Oh, _Liam_ ," says Ben, and Liam moans in reply, and then Ben's scooping him up by the hips, dragging him back on his cock so Liam's arse is in the air with his forearms on the bed, and Liam pushes his forehead into the mattress and feels Ben driving in again harder, grunting with every thrust. The pain is gone now, replaced by overwhelming need, and Liam says, "please, please, please," until Ben fucks him harder, pulls him up higher, finds what he's looking for, and Liam gasps and loses the ability to be helpful at all: he can't push back against Ben, he can't speak, he can only let Ben hold him up and work him back and forth over his cock.

"Liam," breathes Harry, and Liam lifts his head and realises Harry's staring at him with wonder in his eyes. "Is it good?" He strokes Liam's side and waits as if Liam's going to be able to carry on any kind of conversation like this.

"Nnnngggh," says Liam, trying anyway.

"He needs to come," says Ben, "Harry, don't be—useless."

Harry grins and licks his palm, reaches under Liam, finds his cock. Liam cries out at the heat of his grip, at how Harry doesn't even need to move because Ben's thrusts slides him forward into Harry's fist, over and over.

"Can I," Liam sobs, "can I, can I," and Ben's hands tighten on his hips.

"Perfect, perfect, fucking waiting to be _told_ ," Ben says, disbelievingly, and Liam sobs again, because Ben's not saying yes.

Finally Ben says, "Come for us then," and shoves in hard, and Liam cries out and spurts over Harry's hand.

"There," says Ben, "there," and his voice is so gentle, even as he's dropping Liam back down on the bed, prone. He lets Liam have the full weight of him now, the roughness of his beard on Liam's neck and shoulder, his chest on Liam's back. Now that Liam's come, his cock in Liam's arse is a brutal, more agonizing slide, fast and unrelenting, until he comes with a groan, his mouth on the back of Liam's neck.

"Jesus, Ben," says Harry, admiringly. Ben shifts, pulls slowly out. Liam doesn't move. Liam possibly can't move ever again. But there are hands on him, nudging at his side, and Liam realises that Harry's rolling him over on his back and sticking a pillow under his head. "Hey," says Harry, and Liam smiles weakly back at him, proud. Ben bins the condom, comes back to the bed and drops down on the other side of Liam, propping himself up on his elbow. "All right?"

"Nope," says Liam happily. Ben's all sweaty and gorgeous. Next time Liam wants to do it looking at Ben, his handsome face and his strong body—but then Liam remembers, there's no reason to expect a next time.

"I'm getting flannels," Harry announces, and when he hops off the bed, Liam can see he's half –hard.

"That's from watching you," Ben murmurs to Liam.

"Well," says Liam, pleased, "Harry is really pretty easy."

"That too." Ben leans down and kisses Liam, warm and gentle, his hand on Liam's chest. "Still, don't you think he should have his turn?"

"Uh," says Liam, not sure what Ben means, and then Harry's back, tossing a flannel to Ben and keeping one for Liam. He swipes over Liam's dick and then pushes a leg up so he can rub softly over Liam's used hole till he's clean. When Harry slides a finger into him, it goes easy, because Liam's still slick inside, but the noise Liam makes is halfway between pain and welcome. He's sore and it's embarrassing that after everything he's been given he still wants so much.

"You'd like another cock in you, wouldn't you?" whispers Ben.

Liam wants to hide his face from Ben's knowing gaze. "I—I don't know?"

Harry pushes in another finger, very gently, and Liam's whole body shakes. He can feel signs of interest from his dick again.

"Let's find out, shall we?" says Ben. "Harry, why don't you make sure Liam is nice and relaxed first?"

Harry grins and throws the flannel into a corner. He grabs Liam's hand and kisses it roughly, and Liam squeezes his fingers right back. "Bend your knees for me, Li," Harry orders, and then ducks his head back down, hands on Liam's thighs, spreading him. Liam thinks for a moment Harry's going for his dick, but then he feels wet heat against his hole and he jerks uncontrollably.

"Stop that at once, Liam," says Ben, amused. "If Harry's decided to lick you, don't you think you should be a bit more polite?"

"Oh my god," says Liam. "Harry, you don't have to—Ben, make him stop, he doesn't want to do that—" He lifts up on his elbows, craning to see, but Ben pushes him firmly back down with a hand to his chest.

"You idiot," says Harry, "I want to, of course I want to," and then Liam feels Harry's tongue again, flicking at his hole, and it's so good he can't breathe.

"And you want him to, Liam," adds Ben.

Harry mumbles, "And you wanna see me do it, Ben," and then goes back to licking at Liam, his mouth so wet and hot that Liam feels like his entire body is melting. Then Harry presses with his tongue in a different way and Liam realises he's trying to go _in_. He wants to put his tongue inside Liam, and Liam thinks of saying no, because it's the sort of thing Liam might not mind doing, but it seems ridiculous to think anyone else would, that Harry would, and for him, but he can't say no, because he's moaning instead. He's fully, achingly hard again now, and when Harry's mouth is suddenly gone he can't help whimpering.

"S'ok," says Harry, sliding his finger in again, "I just have to—" and _oh_ , there's his tongue again, following his finger.

Liam pushes back against Harry's mouth, can't help it, and Harry hums approvingly, but Ben holds him firmly and tells him to behave himself.

"S-sorry," Liam whines, even though he doesn't think Ben really minds, because Ben's leaning over his chest and mouthing his way across his chest, beard a little rough against his skin, and when Liam puts a tentative hand on his shoulder, strokes down his back, Ben presses a kiss to a nipple and then sucks. Harry adds another finger, licks in right where Liam's stretched and open and Liam grinds his hips down again before he can stop himself.

Ben lifts his head from Liam's chest. "You ready, Harry?" He flicks another condom down the length of the bed to him.

"Yeahhhh," groans Harry, sitting up.

"Liam," says Ben. "Harry's hard again, just from licking you out, you know that?"

"Please," is about all Liam can manage, lifting his head from the pillow to watch Harry rip open the packet, roll the condom over his cock. "Please, please."

"Think you know the answer to my question now?" Ben asks. But Harry's already squirting lube into his hand.

"Harry, you can—yeah, if you want—'cause I want—"

"Sshh," says Harry. He's rubbing more lube over Liam's hole. He kisses Liam's stomach, then clambers up till he can line up his cock. Liam strokes himself lazily, liking that he can lie here and be used, liking that Harry and Ben seem to be doing just as they please. Harry's grinning down at him like it's all an enormous game, like one of Louis's most brilliant forfeits, but also in a way that suggests he's been starving for ages and Liam is his heaven-sent four-course meal. They haven't fucked before, it's all been handjobs and blowjobs and miscellaneous rubbing, but it feels right somehow to do it for the first time like this, his legs wrapped around Harry's hips and Ben watching, lightly stroking Liam's arm.

There's no pain when Harry pushes in, but Liam's so sensitive now that every inch feels intense. "You feel amazing, Liam," whispers Harry, pumping into him slow and sure. He reaches up to touch Liam's face. "So hot. Still so tight."

"Very talented at taking cock," Ben agrees.

Harry bites his lip, breathing hard. "Told you. Liam's…good…at…everything."

"Like geography?" Ben asks, but he's running his hand up and down Liam's body and his voice sounds a little shaky now.

Liam whimpers a little, reminding them that he's here, that he's listening.

Ben says, "You still need something, don't you?" He bends and gives Liam a quick kiss on the nose and then kneels by Liam's head. "C'mere. I'm not a bloody teenager myself—"

"'m not a teenager either!" says Liam indignantly, but ends with an undignified gasp, because Harry's begun stroking in more strongly.

"—so how about you get me hard again?" Ben says, ignoring him. He's got his hand on his cock and Liam licks his lips, but Ben's exaggerating about needing his help, because he's already partway there. Ben taps his cheek. "Open up, baby," he says gently, angling himself to make it easier for Liam to take him in, and Liam does what he says the way he always does what Ben says, because Ben's a great director. Ben has the best concepts ever.

It's too bad he's not going to be able to give a very good blowjob, because Harry's still thrusting deep into his arse, which is distracting, plus the angle is terrible, but he opens his mouth and does what he can, dribbling spit and feeling Ben get harder in his mouth, touching every part of Ben's body he can reach. Ben fucks into his mouth shallowly, holding one of Liam's arms down against the bed with one hand and holding Liam's jaw with the other, his thumb at the corner of Liam's mouth.

"So good for us," Ben breathes, and Liam moans his acknowledgment, helpless between the two of them, full. He can't speak, he can't explain how _much_ they are, how important this is. Liam's always the strong one; he's prepared at any moment to play the leader, pick up his bandmates, wrestle them to the ground, or, someday probably, protect Niall from zombie attack. What he doesn't have, generally, is the chance not to be strong, not to decide, not to lead, just to be taken. Just to be _directed_ , knowing he's still of central importance. Like he doesn't have to be in control in order to matter.

Ben's staring down at him with such intensity that Liam thinks he must understand somehow, and then Ben's thumb is wiping under Liam's eye, and he's saying, "Liam, Liam, _fuck_." So maybe Liam's tearing up. Just a little. Liam wants to explain that it's fine, he's fine, not to stop, but Ben's not stopping anyway, he's only pumping in deeper. Liam takes it, tightening his legs around Harry and feeling Harry shake through his orgasm, feeling Harry pull out and move down the bed, feeling Harry's sweet mouth on his cock, sucking with one hand roaming over Liam's belly, until Ben gasps out, "Liam," and Liam comes, trembling, tasting Ben's orgasm too in the back of his throat.

Liam's head collapses back on the pillow for only a few seconds before Ben's muttering something, scooping him up and manhandling him into his lap, shuffling the two of them so that Ben's back is to the headboard with Liam in his arms. Liam leans back against his chest and sighs with the pleasure of it. Then Harry's there, petting him, peering at his face with concern. "Was it too much?"

"No," Liam mumbles. He feels so tired all of a sudden. "Just like my…wildest dreams."

"Mine too, actually," says Ben, and presses his cheek to the top of Liam's head. "I have very professional dreams."

 

*

 

Some time later, Ben and Liam are listening to the splash of Harry's shower in the en-suite, Ben curled around Liam, stroking his arm lightly, up and down. Liam feels so safe, so cared for. In the shower, Harry's singing "I came in like a WRECKING BALL!" at the top of his lungs, and Ben starts laughing at exactly the same moment Liam does. "Never hit so HARD in LOVE," bawls Harry, and Liam's filled with love for him, lit up by the sheer happiness in Harry's voice.

"Our Harry," says Ben, and Liam knows he's feeling the same. He's still wondering something, though.

"So those two or three times with you two, what actually—" he begins, feeling quite bold. But really, people have been doing nothing but asking him embarrassing sex questions for the last two weeks, and maybe it's his turn.

"I've never actually _fucked_ him," says Ben thoughtfully.

"Because you weren't running a secret boyband underground sex ring," says Liam calmly, but he hugs the knowledge to him: that's something he got to do with Ben first.

"No," Ben agrees, and he curls over Liam to kiss him. The sound of the water is gone.

"Maybe you should rethink that," whispers Liam. "Like—like a very _small_ , very occasional sex ring?"

He waits for Ben to say no, to say Liam's got to understand it was a one-time only affair, but Ben's quiet.

Liam turns a little, so he can look up into Ben's dark eyes. "Ben?"

But Harry's at the bedroom door, posing in an extremely small towel. "Are you two cuddling?" he asks. "Ben, you're meant to be a ferocious sex god, stop it at once." Then he launches himself at the bed, the towel disappearing somewhere en route, and ends up sitting on top of Ben with his foot on Liam's chest.

"Ben," says Harry, "Wasn't that nice? Don't you want to give us a special reward?"

"Oh god," says Ben. He flops back against the pillows and closes his eyes. "What is it now?"

Liam pats Ben's head reassuringly. He really has done quite a lot already.

"Oh, not _now_ ," says Harry. "I was just wondering if you'd made a final decision."

"About the sex ring?" Liam asks.

"About the panting," says Harry. "In the video. Ben, you aren't done with the final cut yet, are you?" He wiggles his toes against Liam's chest. Liam reaches up and grabs Harry's hand.

Ben's eyes pop open. "I can't believe this," he says. "It _is_ about screentime."

"Absolutely not," says Harry, and he collapses happily in between them. "It's about art."

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from 'Midnight Memories.' Lyrics from 'NSync's 'It's Gonna Be Me' and Miley Cyrus's 'Wrecking Ball.' Liam's dream about Pharrell is [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/962448). Tumblr post is [here](http://valencing.tumblr.com/post/72242502379/new-1d-fic-when-i-know-what-i-need).


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